


He Had "Ideas"

by yesmsmoran (elliedew)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Grace - Freeform, M/M, Object Insertion, boners in the impala make dean nervous, general weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 02:47:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliedew/pseuds/yesmsmoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel experiments on Sam's ass when he gets bored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Had "Ideas"

**Author's Note:**

> Another kink meme fill. The prompt was simple; Gabriel inserts objects into Sam's ass. The weirder the better.
> 
> This happened.

It started, strangely enough, with Gabriel leaning in the bathroom doorway watching Sam brush his teeth. The forward and back motion of the brush in Sam’s big hand, the bit of foam at the corner of his lips, how the shaft of it slipped in and out in and out between his lips because Sam, ever conscientious, brushed his molars with his mouth closed.

Gabriel knew it was mostly because he had caught Sam brushing his teeth once before and made a comment that he really didn’t have a gag reflex did he and boy oh boy could he open his mouth wide; “Bet you could fit bait AND tackle in there, huh” and he had proceeded to prove himself right.

So, Sam’s mouth stayed closed now.

Gabriel bought a toothbrush and two nights later when Dean was out at a bar and Sam was spread out on the bed, head tilted back while Gabriel worked kisses and soft bites into the side of his throat, one hand shoved deep into the younger Winchester’s boxers, Gabriel said he had an Idea…

Sam was quite amenable to Ideas when they came with the promise of sexual gratification and with little prompting, rolled onto his stomach, tucked his knees up toward his chest, and turned his head to the side to watch what was going on.

“A toothbrush? You’re not putting that in me.”

Gabriel didn’t say anything, just teased the soft bristles lightly against Sam’s hole a few times and watched him twitch. The bristles weren’t suited for insertion, but the handle… that was another thing entirely.

“This is really weird,” Sam said, brows pulled together. It didn’t feel much different than a finger save this was rigid in an unforgiving way and Gabriel used it to mercilessly abuse Sam’s prostate until he was so hard it hurt and his balls were practically purple.

Gabriel was very pleased with the experiment and made it a point to find new and interesting things to… entertain himself with.

There was the obligatory vibrator. Sam liked it… maybe a little too much and kept it to use while he ‘prayed’ when Gabriel wasn’t around, tucked away at the bottom of his bag under his winter socks he never wore and Dean refused to touch because thick socks were for wimps.

Gabriel found a set of anal beads and watched in fascination as Sam squirmed mindlessly, his voice diminished to inhuman whines and groans and inarticulate pleas. His eyes rolled and sweat stood out on his forehead as Gabriel pulled them out one by one, watching as his pink loose hole stretched wide around the largest ball, trying to pull it back in before it popped out, only to be followed by another, slightly smaller one.

Sam came abruptly without being touched on the forth ball and Gabriel pushed two fingers in alongside the remaining ones to feel it. This, he decided was no longer just something fun to distract himself with. It was a challenge.

Ice cubes were new… Sam’s nipples stood up proud and dark as Gabriel traced them then licked off the melted water, Sam shivered and whined as the archangel repeated the process until his chest ached with numb cold and he nearly screamed when Gabriel took one cube into his mouth and sucked his dick in as well. It felt fantastic and it hurt and he couldn’t decide if he wanted Gabriel to stop or keep going so all he ended up doing was squeezing the smaller man’s shoulders with his legs and biting a bloody crescent into his own fist, the fingers of his free hand tangled in the sheets to keep from fisting Gabriel’s hair.

The ice cube melted slower than was physically possible considering his body heat and Gabriel smirked as he collected the foam hotel cup from the nightstand and rocked back onto his heels.

Sam pulled a pillow over his face and from beneath it Gabriel could hear his moans coming louder and more frantic with each bit of ice he pressed into the Winchester’s body.

“Hold it in, Sammy and you can ride me ‘till your brother gets back.”

Sam’s thighs trembled and his body spasmed around the ice. The pain of sensitive tissues that never encountered temperatures below his core body temp clenched and released and it took all his concentration to not relax and let it all pass. It was torture, plain and simple, how his muscles twitched and tried to PUSH OUT the intrusion. How he could feel the cubes slowly melting, warming in his body. He shook all over from it, teeth chattering, eyes dilated, lips pinched bloody between his teeth.

Gabriel mouthed at his inner thigh, smiled as he trembled with the cold and the tension.

Sam showed no mercy, held the archangel’s wrists and fucked himself hard on his cock, head tilted back, chest heaving, mouth open and groaning at the ceiling, lifting and dropping himself in frenzy— mindless and NEEDING.

Gabriel came with a shout, head digging back on the pillow. It was so abrupt and without warning he very nearly knocked the taller man off into the floor but managed to restrain himself just enough that he wound up with his fingers biting into Sam’s hips following the feverish jerks of their hips, trying not to guide Sam’s movements but lending his strength to them.

Sam squeezed himself tight, face screwed up in something akin to agony and tightened up all over, grinding downdowndown hard as he finished, voice pulled high and tight.

Gabriel appeared with a tube of toothpaste a week later, smiled and daubed a thin layer around Sam’s anus, then watched him squirm.

Things got weird after that.

Sam was in the men’s room at a gas station, trying to take a piss when Gabriel appeared behind him, offered a low growl of pleasure and tugged the back of Sam’s jeans down enough to get a lubed finger into him.

Sam was furious—at first—Dean was waiting outside for him and if Sam didn’t get out of here in a few seconds his brother would come looking.

“Let him,” Gabriel said, pushing a second in too soon.

Sam thumped his head against the wall and hissed out his displeasure—then there was something cold and roughly the size of a golf ball— “What the fuck is that?"

“You can take it out when you two get to Denver… Until then? Try to guess.”

Sam opened his mouth to protest, to say that leaving something inside him like that wasn’t a good idea, it could get lost or block his colon or something and cause a million unpleasant problems, but he felt Gabriel brush it with Grace or whatever he had, just as it slipped in and settled over his prostate. It refused to move.

“Oh, you son of a bitch.”

Gabriel chuckled; “Funny,” and he was gone.

It wouldn’t come out. Even when Sam sat down on the toilet quickly and tried to push it out… All it did was shift and RUB and now Sam had a different problem and a six hour car ride.

“Sammy, move it along, we gotta go!” Dean pounded his fist on the door.

Sam hissed out a prayer but Gabriel didn’t reappear and reluctantly he pulled his pants up and tried not to waddle as he left the bathroom.

The Thing shifted inside him at every turn in the road, every bump and twist had Sam tightening his nails on his knees or in his hair and the muscles of his thighs kept clenching, adding to the pressure and relieving it and making Sam twitch helplessly in his pants. This was torture. Absolute. Torture.

Sometimes he could have sworn It did something… Shifted, or vibrated or THRUMMED with Gabriel’s energy and Sam was left squirming and pulling the front of his jacket down over his crotch so Dean didn’t see the strain on his zipper.

Dean gave him curious looks, said; “Dude… if you’ve gotta take a shit—“ He left it hanging in the air like that and his expression was plainly uncomfortable.

“I do NOT have to shit,” Sam said through his teeth. It came out lower than he’d intended, shaking and he looked quickly away at his reflection in the side mirror and the beads of sweat on his forehead.

“I’ve got pills for that in—“

“J-just shut up!” Sam said desperately and canted his hips to the side, hoping to alleviate the pressure. All it did was just give the thing more room and Sam realized it WAS moving, making slow careful up and down motions r-rubbing him—fucking him. “Oh, God…”

“Sam, didn’t we cover this when you were a kid? You—you can’t hold it in, it’ll just hurt wor—“

"SHUT UP!" 

Dean clamped his teeth together and gave Sam a dark look. “If you get ANYTHING on my upholstery you’re cleaning it up with your toothbrush.”

And that did it. 

Sam groaned, eyes sliding closed pressing the heel of his hand hard into his crotch. 

Dean’s eyes widened and he looked quickly away, eyes glued to the road—glanced back at Sam and focused on the horizon. “Aw hell no…” He swallowed; “Did you get hit with somethin’? A curse a—“

"No."

“Did you take one of my pills?” Dean sounded seriously worried now. “Those things are triple strength, Sam! They give ‘em to horses!”

Sam tried to curl up into a ball. He didn’t want to know why Dean had triple strength Viagra intended for breeding studs.

Dean cursed under his breath and found a place to pull over.

Sam stared at him with wide humiliated eyes.

Dean pointed to the bushes on the side of the road and didn’t say anything.

Sam’s face curled up, jaw pushed forward, eyebrows twitching he was so mad.

Dean pointed again; “Get to it!”

“BAH!” He said in a growl and put his hands up over his ears. Actually covered his ears.

When Sam persisted Dean turned on the radio and cranked it up.

Sam scowled at him for a few moments longer then shoved open the door and climbed out.

"SAM!"

He had to catch the door to keep it from slamming and bent his head in when Dean turned the music down for a second, leaned over the seat and digging for something in their bags. He shouldn’t have bothered because all Dean did was throw a handful of napkins at his face and crank the music back up.

Sam snatched up a few and slammed the door. God this was humiliating. At least Dean hadn’t thrown him one of the bottles in his collection of complementary hotel hand lotions so Sam could pretend Dean was expecting him to come down here and take a dump not… not THAT.

The Thing wouldn’t come out, but Sam at least could take an educated guess as to what it was. From the weight of it probably a snooker ball, or one of those glass things some fortune tellers had… worse, it could be some relic or something alive that was going to hatch any minute and slither up his intestines only to burst out of his chest like Sigourney Weaver’s pet Alien or something.

Jesus, not even THAT was killing this boner.

Fuck, what he wouldn’t give for one of those bottles of hand lotion, but trust Dean to want to make this as uncomfortable as possible when his dignity had been bruised by Sam having the audacity to get an erection in his car. What a

Sam didn’t know what was worse, squatting on the side of the road with his pants around his ankles, or trying to jerk off when every few seconds a car would zoom past not fifteen feet away and he could hear Dean’s music even through the car windows, feel his brother sitting there watching the clock and getting more and more irritated, or the fact that his brother KNEW what he was doing.

Sam didn’t even sense Gabriel’s presence until the archangel was leaned forward whispering filthy things into his ear.

It was a testament to how many times they’d done this, the creeping around to be together, not squatting and jerking off on the side of the road, that Sam didn’t punch first and ask questions later. He flinched and then Gabriel’s smaller hand slipped down—mojoed slick and warm and squeezing just tight enough to hurt so good.

Gabriel didn’t say anything about the thing he’d pushed into Sam back at the gas station, he whispered about a tree spirit about a hundred feet to Sam’s left who was leering at them, what the birds and squirrels were thinking where they were hidden in the trees.

Sam didn’t consider himself possessing many voyeuristic tendencies. He was in all truth, very self-conscious of his body, especially when Dean made comments about the few extra pounds Sam had carried for a few years as a kid. And puberty? When things had grown and hair had sprouted up in strange places? No… Sam was a private person and having an Archangel give him a handjob while he was squatted at the side of the road in the dirt being leered at by a tree spirit and squirrels and some blue jays? It was humiliating and fantastic and Sam’s body was so confused for a few minutes it fought valiantly against arousal and Gabriel made a disappointed noise in his throat.

“Come on, Sammy… you’ll never make it all the way to Denver with dry pants if you don’t relax… and do you really want Dean to see your ‘O’ Face?”

That was almost a complete bonerkill, but then Gabriel mouthed wetly at his neck and did SOMETHING to the THING he’d pushed up Sam’s ass, just by brushing it with his Grace and Sam was leaning heavily on his shoulder, eyes closed panting and hopelessly enthralled by the grip on his dick and the THRUM inside him.

It took the edge off and Sam took a nap, completely ignoring how Dean sneered and refused to look at him or take anything from Sam until after they’d stopped for food and Sam had gone to the restroom to ‘wash up’ and even then he didn’t want to.

Denver was a relief. A big, cold, wet relief. The rain was miserable, the hotel was shabby and the roof leaked, but he’d made it.

Dean dropped onto his bed in the motel and seemed to take root, Sam gave him a few pathetic, pleading looks and Dean pointedly ignored him, sipped his beer and crossed his ankles as he focused on whatever shitty movie he’d found.

Sam put his jacket back on and said he was going to get some air.

Gabriel was standing on the corner across the street in jeans, bright green Converse and a black hoodie Sam had been searching his duffle every day the past two weeks for. He grinned crookedly and twitched the stick to whatever candy he’d been nursing to the other side of his mouth.

Sam had seen movies where one character or another partakes in quick frenzied sex in alleyways. Usually it wasn’t an altogether pleasant experience, someone hooking for food money, or that one he’d watched about Jack the Ripper with Johnny Depp, the whores seemed particularly enamored with the idea. Sam never thought he would be here, frustrated and pinning an archangel —an ARCHANGEL—face first to a sticky alley wall and working their jeans down just enough to let him get his hands on the pale curve of Gabriel’s ass and free his dick.

Gabriel had always told him that preparation was never truly NEEDED on his end of things, that he could relax himself in an instant, Sam always did it anyway because there was just something luxurious about pressing his fingers in and slowly—carefully opening the smaller body up for him.

Sam didn’t bother this time. He’d been stuck in a car with Dean after the incident on the side of the road for five more hours and the Thing inside him hadn’t stopped vibrating for one second. Sam Winchester was past frustrated, past horny, he wondered in the back of his mind if this is what animals in heat felt like, because all he could think about, in that instant was pushing himself IN and fucking until his head exploded.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to THAT… at least not with the head on your shoulders,” Gabriel growled it, hands to the wall by his face, fingers curled and crumbling a little bit of the brickwork as Sam grabbed his hips, pulled him open with thumbs and just dove in without preamble. He grunted, surprised—shocked maybe because Sam was never so—so aggressive—the sound lowered into a smug, FILTHY sounding chuckle; “Oh, if I’d known THIS is all it took—“ His breath came out in a grunt and he pushed back into it, savoring the quick hard shock of Sam’s hips connecting with his own, quick shallow, purposeful thrusts. “Yeah, that’s nice… ‘need to make you mad more often.”

It was quick, Sam wasn’t really paying attention to Gabriel’s pleasure with this, he was too intent on relieving his own tensions. Gabriel didn’t care though, he was a Wavelength of Celestial Intent, he didn’t need a hand on his dick to come. He didn’t even need a dick. Gabriel latched onto Sam with his metaphysical self and rode every wave of pleasure Sam blasted off like Non-Newtonian Fluid on a subwoofer.

Sam muttered nonsensically under his breath, something about stupid denim and zippers. That he didn’t know how Gabriel always smelled so fucking good and that self-lubricating assholes were ridiculous and he wouldn’t mind having one because it would make sex so much quicker and fuck why did he want it to be over quicker?

Gabriel chuckled, privy to every one of Sam’s mutterings and the thoughts that prompted them. Sex with Sam could be absolutely hilarious sometimes. The range of the younger Winchester’s thoughts could go from pleasing his partner to what he’d eaten the evening before, old cartoons, comparing the noises he made to those he’d seen on porn and how embarrassing it was, to reciting passive text from his old legal books. Barron’s Law Dictionary was his favorite, when he got Close he’d start at ‘Abatement’ since it seemed most pertinent and see how far he got. He made it all the way to ‘Alienation, order of’ once.

Gabriel craned his neck and caught Sam’s mouth at the end, swallowing the taller man’s wordless cries as he shoved deep and held, body in brief spasm. They slumped there against the wall for a while, Gabriel enjoying his own and Sam’s afterglow, Sam trying to catch his breath and reconcile with himself the fact he’d just had dirty-dirty alley sex with an ARCHANGEL.

“Don’t sweat it,” Gabriel said, reaching back to pat one ass cheek appreciatively where Sam’s jeans had slid down.

Sam grunted and his hips pumped when the THING inside him shifted purposefully.

“Hmmm, guess you’ll want that out now, huh.”

Sam nodded mutely matting some of the hair at the back of Gabriel’s head. “What the hell is it?”

“Hmmm? Oh… Just something I swiped from a trio of annoying sisters.”

"What?"

“Stygian… Nasty bitches, all of them are blind and they share one big magical glass eye."

"You didn't!"

“They’ve since become intimately acquainted with your insides.”

Sam let out a sigh and thumped his forehead against the back of Gabriel’s skull. “There’s something wrong with you.”

“Yeah, but I’m fun.”

Sam shifted inside him again, over-sensitized, gritting his teeth because the Thing (He refused to think of it as some fucking magical eye) was still humming with Gabriel’s grace and wouldn’t let him exactly go soft even if stimulation was a bit too much right now. He should have known Grace was like fucking Viagra.

Gabriel hummed thoughtfully; “You wanna leave it in so we can have a quickie tomorrow morning while your brother’s still asleep?”

Sam’s brows scrunched and after a second he started pumping his hips in earnest, teeth bared, head bowed into the nape of Gabriel’s neck; “Don’t think I can wait that long.”

He hums low in his throat, arching his hips back and trying to get his thighs apart just a little more to give the younger Winchester more room to maneuver; "Agreed."

Gabriel doesn’t find something to top his Eye of Eternal Pleasure idea for three weeks and it’s only because Sam and Dean have had an argument and Dean’s gone out to get catastrophically drunk and kill his liver a little more.

Sam is sitting on the edge of his bed nursing a beer, one among many apparently because there is more than one six-pack’s worth of brown bottles scattered around the room and from all the newspaper clippings and notes they’ve got pinned to the walls ala John, Gabriel is willing to bet that they’re not having a good week.

The restless spirit of a drowning victim pulling down swimmers and overturning boats that they’d thought they were after was in fact a series of six water spirits all trapped in the same lake because their springs had been inundated when the local dam was built the year before. The damned things had nearly drowned Dean before Sam had been able to pull him out by the rope around his waist and onto dry land.

Gabriel took the beer out of Sam’s hand and tipped it to his own lips; “Get naked… I’ve got an Idea.”

Sam looks skeptical; “What kind of Idea?”

Gabriel finishes the beer and looks pointedly at the bottle; “Ever seen ‘I Dream of Jeannie'."

“Barbara Eden?”

Gabriel grins and gives the bottle an emphatic shake. “Think I can fit?”

Sam’s eyes go wide, so—so very wide and his face pales.

“Gives a whole new meaning to ‘being up your ass’, doesn’t it!”

“Shit…” Sam fumbles with his belt.

Gabriel laughs.

0-0-0

0-0-0

0-0-0


End file.
